Love? Actually...

You know how every other week in the papers we read about the epiphanies of modern life – one week we’re told drinking wine when pregnant is fatal, the next that it’s the healthiest thing.

One week, cigarettes are good but broccoli causes cancer, and the next it’s the total opposite.

Today I will be sharing with you some important and possibly life-changing findings released in the media.

According to research, drum roll - cough - love conquers pain. Yes, love is the drug that can heal pain. Intense feelings of romantic love block physical pain in a way similar to morphine, according to a scientific study.

Studies were carried out on people who were in the passionate early stages of a love affair — when even a mere photo of one’s beloved acted as a powerful analgesic.

“It turns out that the areas of the brain activated by intense love are the same areas that drugs use to reduce pain,” said Arthur Aron, professor at the State University of New York.

On the opposite page, there’s a photo of Robert Patttison, that sallow Twilight guy – voted world’s sexiest man. If I focus real hard, and force a flutter out of my heart, shall I be healed of my massive headache?

Come to think of it, the headache was probably brought about by reading the results of another finding. Men, this survey said, really, really fancy Sarah Palin. She is, you might recall, the US Republican Party’s ‘first lady’. The geographically-challenged, moose-shooting lady.

They wouldn’t vote for her, mind; in fact, the majority of men hate her politics.They’re just very, very attracted to her, going so far as to call her “the sexiest woman they’ve seen in a long time”.

Never mind that in another survey, wearers of glasses were deemed ‘older, weaker and geekier’ (making mine mist over in despair), Palin is an exception. Most men apparently see her as the ‘good’ girl who’s about to do something very, very bad.

Huh? Yes, nodded my male friends. “I can imagine her taking off her glasses, unpinning her chignon,” said one.

“Eh! She has the looks of a shy librarian but she’s as hot as the fires of hell,” said another, while conceding that she shouldn’t be allowed to run a grocery, let alone a country.

Aren’t men strange? Women think they want a cleavage and a pair of heels, but actually what they want is someone completely square and tightly buttoned-up, but with a hint of promise glinting behind the specs.

Well, inspired by this series of ‘findings’, I decided to launch a bit of research of my own. Itargeted the street-smart, 20-30-something view – in other words, my girlfriends. I asked them, do girls want tightly buttoned-up, completely square men? Do we want Clark Kent in a suit or Superman in shorts?

“Suits!”, “Suits!” clamoured my girlfriends (over a glass of wine too many). “Men in suits are so sexy, so authoritative, so kissable,” they gushed. Not I.

I happen to find nothing sexier than a man wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a slap-dash T-shirt (truth be told, this is a rare species on these islands; our men love showing off their moobs in their stretchy-tighty shirts). The surf-dude attire oozes supreme confidence, especially if worn in a board room of shiny grey suits and silver, shinier ties.

Really, all of this brings me back to my flirting crisis. Which you may recall, I suffered way back last spring. A crisis as in how, who, what, and all that. Well, the crisis is over. Not because I’ve since become a pro but because it was frankly too tiring to follow all the conflicting advice.

“Right. See that guy over there. He’s cute. Send him a drink,” said one girlfriend

“Never, ever send over a drink. Don’t you dare. You’ve got to let a guy think he’s the one orchestrating the flirting. Smile. Bat your eyelids,” said another.

“Go to a bar on your own. Alright, take your dog with you, sit outside with a book. Guys will come over and talk to you about the book and the dog and then you’ll start chatting and then …,” said another one.

“Don’t go on your own. Always have a pal or two at hand, so guys will think, phwoar, she’s popular. And certainly don’t take a book. That’s saying I’m busy, don’t bother me,” said another one.

You’ll understand now why I can’t be bothered. As another friend said: “I’ve done all the searching for Mr Right. Now it’s time for him to do his bit and look for me. I’m staying put.”

And that, reader, is the best ‘finding’ of them all.